


Olive Juice

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...but whenever he felt homesick he would seek <i>her</i> out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olive Juice

**Author's Note:**

>   
> _“Well I’ve been up to my neck in trouble_  
>   Up to my neck in strife Up to my neck in misery   
> For most of my life I’ve been a fool   
> And you know what a fool can do  
>  I’m telling you   
> You came along when I needed you  
>  Now I’m up, I’m up in my neck in you...” 
> 
> _Up To My Neck In You by Mark Kozelek_   
> 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

A sense of exhaustion gripped Gabriel as he sat on the floor, leaning against the tan couch resting behind him. Sweat left their perch on his neck to drop further, slipping down the curve of his throat, paying homage to the heat that she radiated. His vessel itched to shift, feeling the bead of sweat tickle his skin, but Gabriel’s mind was far off.

It was summer time in Kochi, a port city nestled by the Arabian Sea and always smelled of the sea water and spices. The year didn’t matter, because time was simply irrelevant. He didn’t live off of a timer that would eventually hit zero, and so in turn he cared little of time. Even right now he had no idea of what hour of the day it was...

Gabriel preferred to stay in areas where the culture of the pagan god he was assuming was originated and blossomed. India was far from any Norse religion influence, but for the past five hundred and so years he has been finding himself sheepishly dragging his feet towards the hotbed of the supernatural. Usually he would run into _her_ through one of his shenanigans, causing trouble in his wake, but whenever he felt homesick he would seek _her_ out.

The smell of vanilla wafted slowly into the air, curling in wisps of visible smoke from the herbal cigarette held delicately between the index and middle finger. While his sweet tooth was thoroughly satisfied by the sleeping goddess curled in the sheets of a king-sized bed, he could feel that soft ache grip his throat and mouth. Gabriel was certain it was a curse -- a delicious curse that somehow came to him after his easily forgotten runaway from Heaven. He simply began to crave and need to feel something sweet on his tongue, and if he wasn’t an archangel he was certain he would end up in that one Circle of Hell housing all who were gluttonous.

Bruised and split lips placed the cancer stick between them, inhaling the intoxicating smoke, still feeling her on his lips as it gave a soft dull throb. She had a habit of doing that: making him feel her even an hour after... The thought made him hungrily examine her on the mattress, how a warm and earthy olive-hued thigh and knee peeked through the white sheets. A sense of great satisfaction and possession gripped him as he watched her sleep, reminiscing of the way that lithe and toned body arched and moved against his, and how teeth left marks on his body that made his toes simply curl.

This so called ‘her’ was nothing but the destructive and dangerous Hindu goddess, Kali. There was something terrible about a pagan god able to cure an archangel’s case of being homesick, and the youngest archangel couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He wasn’t embarrassed. Wasn’t guilty. No, there was a sense of comfort and cool satisfaction that he was able to shove the past so far down that even his genetic coding was singing in harmony to something so outlandish.

Despite the fact that when they first met it was nothing romantic or as cliched as ‘love at first sight’ -- on the contrary, he was 99.9% certain he was going to end up quite dead by the furious and wild goddess who could decimate kingdoms in a matter of minutes. He escaped with his life, but he found himself tugged back towards her...purposely causing mischief here and there until he could gain her full attention. He was the that young boy teasing and taunting his crush because like hell was he going to go about professing his attraction to her. Somehow though...they worked, and for centuries and centuries both have been unwinding and revealing their true selves. Well, except for the truth of who he truly was...

That irked him he had to hide himself from her like that, but he knew that if he told her that he was actually an archangel... It would not only blow his cover but also end this relationship he has been nurturing for as long as he could remember. Angels have been known for killing pagans, and it was done to enforce their hold on Heaven to these so called ‘false gods’. If Kali knew that he was Gabriel, the Messenger, who helped tear apart her brothers and sisters... _shit_. But most of all, he didn’t want her to see him as a coward. To his brothers, if they accused him of it, he would take it with protest. To Kali...he wouldn’t know how to explain himself, because Kali was no coward. She didn’t even believe in such a thing, and he wanted -- needed to gain her approval.

Perhaps this was his way of making up for what happened in the past, trying to pretend like he was some risk-taking, ‘laugh in the face of danger,’ wild in hope that one day he simply would become that. He would become reformed and strong like his brothers, Michael and Lucifer,...and here this woman was the epitome of all the strong aspects his brothers held. Never before had he had someone in his life push him the way she did... She simply would give him little mercy, and there were times he was deeply reconsidering why the hell he was shacking it up with a psychopathic goddess.

Kali was a hard one to please and was not a romantic in the least. She was the type of girl who saw flowers for sissies and candle lit dinners as a form of torture. Which was hard on Gabriel because he knew how to seduce the panties off of anyone with good chivalry and all that bullshit. Gabriel was certain Kali was more turned on by a severed head than the raunchiest piece of porn.

God, can no one ever please a woman?

But somehow he did it... Somehow the two clicked, and he has been rubbing against those tall walls she throws up until they tremble and sink back down. She was an authority, strong and held a vicious fist to those around her, but when alone with him... Oh, when alone with him she let that guard of hers drop. While she loathed cliche acts of romance, he found her tolerating his antics more and more as they spent more time together. Allowing him to build a fortress of blankets, pillows, and mattresses, he coaxed her into sleeping with him in the cocoon of fabric. She even admitted that she was fond of honey, and well...let’s just say they are always satisfied and sticky in the end when that’s involved. And when he truly needed it, she would endow him with what he needed to hear -- _the truth_ \-- and lead him to the right path.

Gabriel, the infamous flirt of an angel and a pagan god, hated to admit it...but he really did love her. Loved her flaws, her perfections, her sharp words, her bright energy -- and if he continued on than Gabriel was positive he might as well copy and paste some sappy love poems into this. Like hell though was he going to tell her that he loved her and has been loving her for the past five hundred something years. That would result in instant decapitation or worst, castration.

So he eyed her sleeping frame, sucking in the delicious smoke of simmering vanilla before exhaling softly, “I love you...” There he said it. Good. This was the safe way to do it...while she is dead asleep and unable to snap his neck off.

“Mmm...what was that, Loki?” her voice was riddled with sleep, syllables being drawn out and murmured into the fabric of the pillow. The trickster felt his blood suddenly run cold, feeling his eyes become unbearably wide as he stared at her. Oh come on. _Come on! Women and their goddamn good hearing._

Working his jaw, he opened his mouth and began to hear himself stammer and groan out a hasty response, “Eh ah...uh...I said...I said ‘olive juice’ -- wondering if...a thing...exists...” _Olive juice. Really, Gabe? Really?_ Praying that she truly didn’t hear him and simply thought him to be some bizarre experiment vomited out by the universe, he stared at her with growing apprehension and fear. He wasn’t fearful she would lash out at him. No, he was just fearful of the rejection.

“Your mind forever disturbs me.”

“Just doing my job, babe. Just doing my job,” he chirped back, watching her twist on the bed to reveal a bare collarbone that made him suck in his breath. Earthy-hued eyes were currently a warm, simmering honey-brown, half-lidded in all their beauty as they watched him carefully. Gabriel watched her sigh in a sound she gave up, turning so a bare back was exposed for his eyes to wander rather ravenously. _What a tease._

It was a shame that when the time came...when time finally hits the end of its tale, that pagans will become fully extinct. It was almost ironic that the moment he actually finds something he truly wants in this world, it will be taken from him in what would feel like minutes. Of course he wanted to keep her, to take her into hiding in a small little place in the world no one could reach...but he knew this goddess. Kali doesn’t hide.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, flicking at the cigarette so the ash fluttered into the air before hushing out of existence in the soft exhale of gold. It was when he pressed the slowly diminishing cigarette between his lips for a final drag, hazel eyes refocusing, did he find the goddess was gone. Blinking blankly, he suddenly felt her besides him as the cigarette disintegrated into specks of gold and vanishing before it hit the surface of the floor in silence.

A slender arm found its way around his shoulders, lips meeting the side of his jaw, stirring the archangel from his restless thoughts fully. Something in his gut told him it was beginning...that the pieces to this bomb was finally being slowly constructed. As much as he has been avoiding these thoughts since he left eons and eons ago...as that idiotic concept of time edged on closer to him, all he could truly worry of was not his own safety.

But hers.

He wanted to hide and let the Apocalypse simply happen like the tearing of a bandaid off skin: quick. But he knew his Kali, he knew that this goddess was one who would not sit by and let her kin become slaughtered. She was a warrior who could never accept defeat, full of such confidence and passion that it made him only think more of his siblings.

“Calm your thoughts, Loki. Your brain cell count is diminishing...” she murmured softly, voice but satin against his ears, and it was a few seconds before her words finally sunk in.

“Hey!” he laughed in protest, turning to face her, instantly kissing her as his fingers moved to her sides. Finding the spots that would make her squirm and fall into a helpless fit of giggles, he tickled her, instantly hearing her gorgeous voice leave her lips in a beautiful melody. For someone who was the face of Death, War, and Destruction...god, she sounded like a siren with that voice of hers when she laughed. “For your information, I was thinking of serious and brilliant plots, and you distracted me by trying to seduce me. As always.”

“Oh hush, Loki, it’s not seduction. It’s just who I am,” she breathily replied when he stopped, finding herself ending up on the trickster’s lap. Her lips quirked into a smirk, and the archangel raised his brows before giving a snort in amusement. Raising her hand to comb though his hair, curling through the currently short locks of hair, her palm rested on his left cheek. “Loki...I don’t know what’s troubling you, but I know that you don’t go out of your way to visit me when there is the opportunity to cause trouble elsewhere...” she began calmly, the smile on Gabriel’s lips faltering as he looked elsewhere, working his jaw. He loved yet hated how Kali always saw right through him, knew him to a point where they could sit in silence and yet somehow feel as if they had a conversation in that time span. No matter how many barriers he could toss up, Kali had a way of seeing him in a way that made him want her more.

“I’m not asking you to tell me, because I know you won’t. But I’m asking you to let whatever troubles you at rest. You live a good life, sweetheart, and may it never change and may it never change us,” she spoke with wisdom that made the trickster move forward and kiss her bare breasts in silent appreciation. Keeping his grip on her hips, he pulled her closer to his mouth, leaving suckling kisses on her chest as if it was but sugar to his lips. Kali gave a warm smile, continuing to comb through his hair before drawing back, listening to the soft whine leaving the archangel.

“Come and sleep with me. This bed is too big for one,” she mused out, the twang of an order resonating through her words that had Gabriel’s limbs instantly moving. He couldn’t stop staring at her, the way her supple body moved in all its womanly and ethereal glory. She always had a way of putting Aphrodite to shame, in his honest opinion.

“Yes, m’am!” Giving a mock salute he padded after her, slipping onto the mattress to hover over her, lips finding hers in a tender kiss. A sense of possessive glory and arrogance made his own Grace simply radiate, knowing that all these moments with her were his and only his. He had the pleasure and luxury of being with something so exotic and regal that at times he simply had to pinch himself.

Slowly slipping off of her to lay besides her, he buried his nose into her thick locks of hair, an arm wrapping around her waist. “Loki...” she murmured, turning into his arms, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek.

Gabriel hummed sleepily, hazel eyes watching her with the laziness of a feline basking in the sun, “Hmm?”

“Olive juice you too.”


End file.
